


daybreak over the ocean, moonlight still on the sea

by jeserai



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeserai/pseuds/jeserai
Summary: But they’re still not allowed to really be together, platonically or otherwise. Maybe if Catra were a star, things would be different, but Catra is the ocean, and Adora is the moon. They are simply...not meant to be.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 136





	daybreak over the ocean, moonlight still on the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breeeliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeeliss/gifts).



> for gabie/breeeliss !!

Catra has always loved being in the moon’s steady, cool light.

She knows that the whole world is awash in the moon’s glow every night, but it always feels like the light is meant just for  _ her,  _ and Catra spends each night trying in vain to climb even closer to it. Unlike her, the moon remains steady on its course through the sky, and if she notices Catra’s attempts to get her attention, the moon does not indulge her.

But that only makes Catra ache even more: she wants to see the moon to blush pink like her own ocean does every evening, wants to see her light fixed solely on her, wants to see the moon turn to face her and smile, soft and bright. But the moon does not listen to her prayers, and for hundreds and hundreds of years, they remain locked in a one-sided waltz.

Until—

Catra has never been fond of the sun. She burns bright,  _ too  _ bright sometimes, makes her oceans restless and boil beneath the surface. The sun is warm, but she is just too  _ much _ sometimes, especially compared to the lovely serenity of the moon.

Recently, the sun has been calling herself Scorpia, and during the once-yearly meetings of the nature spirits, she places herself as close to Catra as possible, that same warm smile on her lips, bright enough to make Catra’s eyes hurt.

She  _ is  _ nice, though, and she soothes the chill of winter that freezes smaller rivers and streams over, so Catra can’t be  _ too  _ mean to her. And as for the moon—

As usual, she is seated with the bright North star and her daughter, similarly bright and twinkling. None of them look Catra’s way, and why would they? They rule in the night skies, looking down at her each night as her tides pull towards and towards the moon as if compelled.

But this year, things are different. Just a little.

The death of the North star means that the moon’s friend—Glimmer, she hears in murmuring waves from the crowd—is to be crowned the new brightest star in the sky. It is an important position, perhaps comparable to that of the sun, and the moon looks so very saddened as her friend is crowned with a circlet of spun silver stardust.

So sad, in fact, that Catra makes her way over to her. The moon looks up as she stops in front of her, and Catra feels the breath die in her lungs as for the first time in forever, she feels the moon’s gaze full on her. She’s more beautiful up close, even with the sorrow written clear across her face. Her eyes are a dim gray and there are silver teartracks staining her cheeks, but if she notices, she clearly doesn’t care.

“I—just wanted to say that I’m sorry, for you and your friend’s loss,” Catra somehow manages to get out.

The moon nods, then wipes her tears away and offers Catra her free hand. “We...haven’t properly met, have we? I’ve gone by Adora for a while.”

All Catra can focus on are the faint streaks of silver on the moon’s—on  _ Adora’s _ —face, but somehow she shakes her hand and says, “Catra.”

“Thank you again, Catra,” Adora says her name like it is something to be revered, like she is tasting every inch of it, and Catra feels a shiver run down her spine. They’re still holding hands, she realizes, and with difficulty, Catra pulls away, forcing herself to cross her arms and take a step back.

“Just uh...take care of yourself. I don’t want to see your light dim, Adora.”

Adora’s expression softens and warms as a smile blooms across her lips, and she nods, watching curiously as Catra abruptly spins on her heel and walks back to her seat. She can feel Adora’s gaze heavy on her back all the way, and when she twists around to look at her, she finds Adora staring back.

Despite their first  _ awkward  _ meeting, the moon turns her face to Catra more often now, and Catra feels warm as she reflects its far off surface, her blush tinting the moon’s reflection pink. Some evenings, she can almost  _ swear  _ that the moon is crawling through the sky slower than usual, as if Adora wants just that much more time to spend staring at her, and the waves of Catra’s ocean greedily reach out towards the moon, trying to persuade her to stay.

But she can’t, and at the end of every night, the waves still as the moon dips below the horizon and the sun begins to rise. Those daytime hours are spent  _ yearning,  _ and as the days and months and years pass on, Adora slowly begins to open up to Catra more and more. It started as subtle glances and quick grins at the start of those celestial meetings, and wiggle of Adora’s fingertips as a goodbye, and then it had turned to warmer smiles and lingering glances all throughout, and now it is the two of them sitting close, leaning in to whisper to each other whenever they can get away with it.

Sometimes it feels almost like Catra is trapped in Adora’s orbit, and more than once she has to physically force herself to lean away from or step away from Adora, but...they always end up tilted into each other again by the end of the night. All Glimmer—their new North star—says is that so long as their work does not suffer, she’ll overlook all of the soft touches and glances.

But they’re still not allowed to really be together, platonically or otherwise. Maybe if Catra were a star, things would be different, but Catra is the ocean, and Adora is the moon. They are simply...not meant to be.

And it is okay, for a while. Adora no longer allows the moon to linger in front of Catra’s pleading waves, and Catra does not beg Adora to stay—too much, anyway. But the distance just makes their attraction at each yearly meeting worse, and by the time Frosta is introduced as the new spirit of snowstorms, Catra is boiling over with impatience, with the sheer  _ need  _ to be truly  _ with  _ Adora.

Their fingers are twined now, both of their hands resting in Catra’s lap, and though Adora at least  _ looks  _ like she’s paying attention to the ceremony, as  _ soon  _ as Catra rubs her thumb across Adora’s knuckles, Adora shivers and turns to face her, cheeks warm. “ _ Catra, _ ” she hisses, “what are you doing?”

Catra scoots her chair somehow closer to Adora’s and leans her head against Adora’s shoulder. “I’m  _ bored, _ ” she whines, “wish we were somewhere else, just the two of us.”

She can practically  _ hear  _ the way Adora’s heartbeat speeds up with how close they are, but Adora still shakes her head, lips twisted into a frown. “We  _ can’t,  _ you know that.”

But she doesn’t move away.

So Catra brings their joined hands up to her mouth to kiss the back of Adora’s hand. Predictably, Adora shivers again—this time she pulls her hand away, but she’s smiling now, fond and amused. “Listen, I’ll talk to Glimmer, okay? It’s been hundreds of years, surely we deserve  _ some  _ kind of time away.”

But—no, because Catra already  _ knows  _ what Glimmer will say. They’re each too important in their respective positions, the world won’t stand the balance if they are both gone, etcetera, etcetera. They’ve gone over this before, so many times before, and Catra just  _ knows  _ that Glimmer will never change. And so, with a deep breath, Catra murmurs, “We can make a place, just for us...no one would know about it, no one could take it away from us or drag us home. It would only be  _ us,  _ whenever we want.”

Adora bites her lip, but the color is high on her cheeks and she is leaning into Catra now, nodding only after Catra kisses her neck, just below her ear. “ _ If  _ we do this, we’ll have to plan well. I don’t want to get caught and have something happen to you.”

At that, Catra scoffs and squeezes Adora’s hand again. “Oh, princess, I already know just the place.”

Adora is looking at her lips now, and Catra’s heart stutters in her chest as those achingly familiar steel gray-blue eyes drag back up to her eyes. “Tomorrow then, if you’re  _ sure? _ ”

“I am, princess. Just wait for my signal, okay?”

Adora nods again, and after twisting around to make sure that Glimmer isn’t looking, leans in quick to kiss the corner of Catra’s mouth before standing and making her way towards her other friends and sitting between them. And despite being left alone, Catra can’t even bring herself to care, because  _ she’s  _ the one that holds Adora’s heart in her hands, and besides—

Tomorrow.

Catra spends the morning—while the stars and moon sleep—getting the little cavern ready. Her oceans had found it ages ago, and though it is not exactly a  _ romantic  _ place to lay with Adora, it is perfect, because it is completely hidden from view of the sky.

There is a stone basin full of water at the back of the cavern that Catra warms to perfection; the stone has already been smoothed down by Catra’s ocean waves crashing against it for thousands of years. There isn’t much else she can do for Adora now—perhaps in the future they can learn to make this place their own kind of home.

By the time evening falls, Catra feels more impatient than she’s felt in a  _ long  _ time, and the moon greedily dips towards her as if Adora feels just the same. Catra can practically see her now, lip caught between her teeth, cheeks pink. This night feels like the longest it’s ever been, and as the sun  _ finally  _ begins to rise, Catra lets her waves guide Adora towards the cavern, where she is waiting. And then Adora steps out of the sky, her silky robes wrapped loose around her and coloring her silver with the moon’s light. Catra reaches out to catch her, pulse beating quick quick quick because this is the  _ first  _ time she’s ever been allowed to touch without Adora reluctantly pulling away, or seeing Glimmer give them the stink-eye to make them pull away from each other. “You’re  _ here, _ ” she breathes, and though Adora nods, her attention is fixed on the cavern, a soft smile on her lips.

“How did you find this place?”

Catra shrugs and carefully leads Adora back towards the pool. “I’d found it a long,  _ long  _ time ago...I thought it would be nice for us, but I never thought we’d actually...y’know. So I instead thought of it as a place for lovers, and—”

“Us, lovers?”

When Catra glances back at Adora, she finds the moon more flustered than she’d ever been. “Well,  _ yeah... _ did you not want that?”

Adora shakes her head, then nods furiously. “Of  _ course  _ I do, I just didn’t know you felt the same. I thought...I worried that this would be a one time thing. That you would lose interest in me.”

Catra takes Adora’s hand in hers and places it against her heart so she can feel it racing. “Do you feel how quickly my heart beats? It always does that for you, it has for centuries. I’ve...I’ve loved you for ages, Adora.”

The realization that floods Adora’s face would be cute if she weren’t already rushing forwards, if her hands weren’t on Catra’s cheeks, if she weren’t giving Catra a kiss that she has ached for as long as she can remember. 

And Catra had wanted to take this slowly, wanted to savor this first time, but it is Adora who is insistent now, who carefully backs them up, who only pulls away so Catra can slide into the pool. As soon as Adora is in too, she presses fully against Catra, and Catra’s ocean gives her body a thousand gentle kisses as Catra herself kisses Adora until she forgets how to breathe.

When she finally pulls away again, Adora looks... _ gorgeous.  _ She always looks beautiful, but now—wet hair falling around her shoulders, robes soaked through, lips swollen and cheeks pink—she looks so beautiful that Catra wants to spend the next full year just seeing what else her touch can do to Adora.

But they do not have a year, or even a full day. There are just mere hours to sate the burn that has been in their hearts for far longer than it should have been, and as she brushes a stray curl away from Catra’s face, Adora smiles, soft and watery. “I had no idea it would be like  _ that, _ ” she murmurs, voice rough.

“Have you never…?”

Adora shakes her head. “Never. Not with anyone else.”

For some reason, the quiet admittance makes Catra smile, and she presses a whisper of a kiss to Adora’s shoulder through her sodden robes, partially because she knows it’ll make Adora shiver (she does) and mostly so that she doesn’t see her expression when she says, “Me too.”

Adora’s hands are warm and wet when they cup Catra’s cheeks and guide her back up, and there is so much  _ love  _ in her eyes that Catra feels her heart skip a beat. “I’ve loved you for a long time too, you know,” she says decisively, “and I think I will love you forever.”

“Forever’s a long time, princess.”

“I know. And I want to spend it with you, however we can.”

This close, Adora is sure to feel the way Catra’s pulse jumps under her fingers, but she does not appear to care by the way she smiles and leans down to kiss her again, slower this time. Her fingers are warm and soft and wet as they dance across Catra’s skin as if trying to memorize every inch of her, and eventually tangle with Catra’s own as Adora eventually pulls away with a content little sigh.

Part of Catra would be content to stay like this for the rest of the night, pressed close to her moon and simply existing so close to her like she’d only dreamed, but some of her—most of her— _ wants,  _ wants to lay with Adora and give and take and finally curl up tangled together, finally sated and so very in love.

And despite how much she wants, when Catra glances up at Adora, she sees only fondness and adoration, and she suddenly realizes that this...this would be enough or her. It almost makes sense, in a funny little way: of course the steady moon would be satisfied with this tiny step, and of course the ocean inside of Catra already wants more.

“Adora, I…”

“You don’t have to say it,” Adora murmurs. She’s already shifting closer, just like Catra wanted, and her eyes are so dark, and as her fingertips brush against Catra’s skin beneath the hem of her ocean-soaked shirt, she realizes with a shock that Adora really does want this too.

Adora wants  _ her _ .

After so long, Catra would have thought  _ this  _ would be the easy part, but Adora’s robe still gets stuck when she tries to pull it over her head, and there is an awkward series of shifts and tugs as they try to rid Catra of her own robe without dislodging Adora from her lap. It is dim this deep in the cavern, and their noses bump when they try to kiss, but it is still light enough for Catra to see the want in Adora’s eyes when her hand dips down and down and  _ in,  _ and it quiet enough for Adora to hear the way Catra calls out to her in the quietest whisper of a voice.

It is enough.

And after, as they lay out on the smooth stone, tangled together, skin still damp from sweat and ocean-water, Catra finds herself rolling over to press a kiss to the curve of Adora’s neck where it meets her shoulder. A bruise is already blooming pink against her skin, and Adora makes a content little sound as her arm comes up to wrap around Catra’s waist and keep her held close.

“What are you thinking about?”

Catra frowns as she tries to think of what to say, but as she meets Adora’s gaze, she finds the truth spilling out uninhibited. “I just...want this all the time, you know? I want to be able to lie with you and live with you and  _ be  _ with you, not like... _ this. _ ”

Adora heaves a sigh, but Catra knows she wants the same by the way her brow creases and her lips purse. “I’d do something if I could, you know I could, but our responsibilities—”

“ _ I know, _ ” Catra hisses, “I  _ know  _ about our responsibilities, I  _ know  _ there’s nothing we can do, I  _ know  _ this is all we get, I  _ just— _ ”

It is only when Adora’s thumb gently rubs across her cheek that Catra realizes that she’s crying, and she drops her head down against her moon’s chest in a vain attempt at stopping the flow of tears.

“You’re allowed to be upset, Catra—I am too, even if it doesn’t seem like it. I’ve...actually been searching, you know. For a way to be with you. And I found a way, but I don’t think you’ll—”

“What is it?”

Silence for a long few moments; just the steady beat of Adora’s heart against Catra’s ear. “If we didn’t have these responsibilities, there wouldn’t be anything stopping us from being together, right? So all we have to do is...get rid of our responsibilities. If we become mortal, we’ll just be...normal. We’ll be able to be together.”

And that’s…

Catra raises her head to look Adora in the eye again; her expression is so serious that she already knows what Adora will say to her before she even speaks. “You’d do that for me?”

“For us,” Adora corrects, “but yes. We’ve been stagnant for thousands of years, maybe even a millenia. I’m scared, and I don’t know what the future will bring, but...I want to have you in it. I want this, if you do.”

Catra rests her head against Adora’s chest and tries to fathom what this will mean. They’ll never be able to truly speak to their friends again. They’ll never be able to return home, or to feel the power of controlling some of the most integral parts of nature—of  _ themselves— _ again. But...they’ll be able to be together beneath the sun and stars, and they won’t have to hold hands under the table, or sneak away for just one night in a whole year together.

They’ll live together, and grow old together, and eventually, they’ll die together.

And after so many years spent on the edge of Adora’s orbit, that is so much more than enough.

“I want this too,” Catra decides, “I’ll do it as soon as you’re ready.”

“I’ll talk to Glimmer today then, but it’ll probably have to wait until the next full moon. Tradition and all that.”

The next full moon. That gives them just under a week to say goodbye to the only things they’ve known since the beginning of time, and...it is surprisingly easy, at least for Catra.

Because really, the only person that she has to talk to is Scorpia.

Scorpia, who has warmed her ocean every day without fail, who has given Catra more over the years than she deserved, who was the one that pushed Catra to pursue Adora in the first place.

Scorpia, who just smiles and pats Catra’s hand when she tells her of their plan. “I’m happy for you,  _ really, _ ” she says, “you deserve to be happy, and it’s obvious that Adora helps with that, so...if you’re really  _ sure  _ about this—since it’s not something you can ever take back—I hope you two can be happy together.”

“This is...probably the thing I’ve been most sure about in my entire life.” Even as she says it, Catra realizes that it’s  _ true.  _ Maybe Adora is already beginning to rub off on her.

As if sensing her thoughts, Scorpia nods and gives Catra a grin that is two parts happy and one part wistful. “Then that’s all you have to say to me. You’ll have my support, you know that.”

And for perhaps the first time ever, Catra is able to look the sun in the eye and not be overwhelmed.

Other than Scorpia, Catra is really only close to the wind that rouses her ocean waves so often, but she knows that despite their sadness, Entrapta and Scorpia will be fine without her. Scorpia has always been great with people, and hopefully she’ll still smile brightly upon Catra once she’s human, and Entrapta will quite easily find something new to occupy herself with. Plus, Adora has already brought up the idea of them living by the ocean; it won’t be quite nearly the same, but Catra will be able to feel the water against her skin again. So really, it’s not as much of a goodbye as she thought it’d be.

The same cannot be said for Adora, however, who has made so many friends over the endless years, who has such a warm presence that even the spirits that know nothing of her bid her the warmest farewells as the days and nights pass. Her closest friends stick by her side whenever they can too, and more than once, Catra has felt the dirty looks Glimmer has given her, like she’d planned all of this on purpose, to steal Adora’s heart and take her away forever.

Catra does not speak to Adora though, and Adora does not speak to her. They don’t have to, not this week—they’ll have the rest of their lives for that.

And somehow, after a week spent on edge, the full moon arrives, and Catra finds herself standing next to Adora, in front of a hundred spirits that she knows and a thousand more that she doesn’t. Glimmer is in front of them, clad in royal gold, and Adora and Catra alone are wearing white to represent change. Between them rests a golden chalice full of midnight dark liquid—and if Catra squints, she is almost  _ positive  _ that there are speaks of stardust within it.

She has only seen this cup from far away, has only been to this kind of event once in all her years. More spirits than that have decided to make the change, but Catra has never been one for ceremony, and the whole thing ended anticlimactically too—the spirit she’d witnessed change took just one sip from the cup and dimmed ever so slightly as their divinity was stripped away.

And that was it; the crowd dispersed as goodbyes were said, and by the next night, the spirit was gone, and a new spirit was appointed in their place.

This is how it will be once they are gone, Catra suddenly realizes; someone else will take her place and learn to bend all the oceans around the world. Someone else will learn to thread the moon around the world every day and night, and hopefully they will be better at their jobs than Catra and Adora had been. Maybe the new moon will fall for a star, and maybe they will be able to be together—Catra won’t even know.

Adora squeezes her hand tight then, and when Catra glances at her sidelong, finds Adora looking just as conflicted as Catra suddenly feels. “Do you want to go back?” she whispers, but Adora immediately shakes her head.

“No, never. I’m just realizing that this is really  _ it. _ ”

Catra gives her a smile that says more than words ever could, then turns back to Glimmer to see that the North star is perhaps for the first time looking at her without any kind of rancor or malice. Rather than that, she looks...almost apologetic.

"Catra and Adora have been with us since the beginning of time itself," Glimmer says then, "and they have fulfilled their duties for ages without any complaint. Maybe that's why I was so opposed to this at first; us celestial bodies do tend to hate change. Adora's been there for me for as long as I can remember, so I thought I was protecting her.

I had my own misconceptions about Catra and I thought that Adora would only be hurt in the end. But...I see now that  _ I  _ was the one that was hurting them both by not letting them be together. I know that it's far too late to say it, but anyone that has loved Adora for this long will continue to love her until the end of their days, so I bless their union and pray that they find happiness together."

It's not a long speech, not really, and Catra has never been close to Glimmer, and now never will be, but this feels like as much of an apology and a truce and a blessing all in one. Maybe that is why she feels herself on the verge of tears. Next to her, Adora isn’t that much better; silvery tears are already rolling down her cheeks and her mouth wobbles in her effort to keep from making a sound.

Catra squeezes Adora’s hand tight, longing to reach out to wipe her tears away and kiss her until she smiles, but she does not move, not until Glimmer gestures for them to take the goblet and drink from it. Adora does first, and Catra keeps her gaze fixed straight ahead so she does not have to see her love’s celestial light dim. When she is done, Adora nudges Catra and passes her the cup, and she does not know what to expect, but it is not for the liquid to be thick and cloying and sweeter than nectar, not for it to stick to the back of her throat and burn all the way down.

When she pulls the cup away from her lips, Adora is smiling at her, so enamoured that Catra can’t help the way she slips into her orbit to kiss her in front of everyone. Adora melts into her immediately, and she is still smiling when she pulls away, and she is  _ still  _ smiling as the spirits around them begin to rush up and congratulate them. Among them are Adora’s friends, shining brighter than ever as they give their final goodbyes to Adora and finally introduce themselves to Catra too. But somehow, they are all too bright, and by the way Adora is smiling—fond, but polite and distant—she knows that she’s feeling the same. And finally,  _ finally,  _ as the crowd begins to thin, Adora takes Catra’s hand in hers to lead her away.

As soon as they are out of sight from everyone, Adora scoops Catra into her arms, laughing at the way Catra squeaks. “I’ve got you,” she says then, voice quiet and steeped with endearment, “you’re safe, Catra.”

And just those six words make Catra absolutely  _ melt,  _ her eyes closing and her head resting against Adora’s chest as Adora carries them out of the sky. Even with her eyes closed, she can  _ feel  _ the air shiver around them as they pass into the mortal realm—but it somehow feels different this time. Like they are forcing their way through some kind of invisible barrier, not simply flowing through like they would have before.

After everything,  _ that  _ is what makes Catra truly realize what they’ve done. She tucks her face further into Adora’s chest, breathing her in as the sound of waves crashing against the shore grows louder and louder in her ears until it practically eclipses the steady beat of Adora’s heart in her chest.

“You can open your eyes now,” Adora murmurs then; when Catra does, Adora carefully lets her go, and Catra’s feet sink into the cool sand of the beach. She no longer feels the ocean calling to the deepest part of her being, but being this close, and being able to hear the familiar song of the waves, and having Adora so near…

“It was all worth it,” Catra says aloud, “ _ you’re  _ worth it.”

Adora’s hands are warm when they settle against Catra’s waist, and she is gentle as she pulls Catra in for a kiss that promises the rest of their lives together, and a warm home, and all the love in the world, love for all time. 

And it is enough.

(They spend the whole night together, just watching the waves as they lap against the sand and the moon as it crawls through the sky, and if the moon really does dip towards them, if the ocean really does stretch towards them, if the sun warms their faces even on the coldest of days, if the stars wink in the sky whenever they are outside at night, well, no one needs to know.)

**Author's Note:**

> happy lesbian day <3


End file.
